Spinster
by Metalmuffin
Summary: Havrenne Tuskadi, a Carthaki mage who wanted to start a new life in Tortall, is in trouble- her experiments produce rather explosive side effects, her sarcastic nature always gets her into trouble and on top of all she feels stalked by a certain noble.
1. Chapter 1: Encounters

_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing except the cheesy plot and my OC´s ( whom you might like or hate ;) ) and the situation I put them in ( poor fellas)._

_Credit for the magical world of Tortall and its inhabitants goes to the awesome Tamora Pierce!_

* * *

**Chapter 1: Encounters**

Carefully balancing the heavy books on her outstretched arms Wren slowly made her way towards her study chambers.

_I really should have learned my lesson by now__,_ she swore grimly while she tried to spy around the huge pile of books to watch her way- as she already had experienced she knew her struggle was futile. _The next time I'll drag one of the pages along, at least that's something the little brats are useful!_

Just as she walked around the next corner of the corridor she suddenly collided with something massive, that definitely should not have been there.

The sudden impact sent her flying straight to the cold marble floor. The awful bashing of the old manuscripts colliding with the stone sent shivers down her spine which worried her more than the upcoming pain in her back. A low groan caught her attention- the man she had crashed into, sat on the floor rubbing his stomach. Judging from the heavy metal bound book in his lap she deduced, that it hit him right in his solar plexus. A small satisfactory grin hushed over her features.

_Serves you right, you ignorant fool!_

The man turned his eyes on her and muttered:" Would you mind watching your steps more carefully in the future? You might accidentally kill somebody with these heavy monsters!"

Instantly a frown appeared on her face and she felt her eyebrows narrowing in anger.

"Me? Watching my step? As I recall YOU weren't carrying anything and therefore could have effortlessly stepped out of my way if you'd been a little more aware of your surroundings, Sir!" Her pale eyes quickly took in his appearance- attractive, brown hair, dark green gold-rimmed tunic and black breeches- a noble's outfit made of high quality cloth; she was sure she'd seen him before and should recall his name.

He opened his mouth but she interrupted him: "You seem to be of perfect health to me so I can't see why you behave like a whimsical ninny! Broken bones can be mended and injuries can be cured, but these-"she took up one heavy book and slid her hand over the dusted cover affectionately- "are valuable records of magic theory. Some over 300 years old and - let me assure you of this- far more important than a bruise on you. Besides since you are a knight, shouldn't you be familiar with battle injuries?"

He watched her perplexed as she struggled to get back to her feet and started picking up the scattered books- all the while muttering to herself.

Just as she was about to reach for the heaviest book- a 250 year old copy of Duanor Ravishnar´s the origins of magic- the heavy volume was picked up by a large hand.

Wren looked up, dark brows raised in mistrust- what did he intend by his actions? She had expected him to scold her for impudent attitude- she always had had a temper, which brought her more trouble than she could recall, and if she was honest mostly it was on her own account. Instead he seemed rather amused.

"May I help you with your errands?" He asked, while picking up another book and adding it to the growing pile.

She eyed him suspiciously, was he mocking her? There was a glance of amusement in his hazel eyes; she didn't like being laughed at but otherwise- the books were indeed heavy and the prospect of carrying them the long way to her quarters was not very alluring.

"Fine, make yourself useful then!" She stood up straitening her wide cut black tunic and skirts and tried her best to ignore the stinging pain in her backside. Soon all the books but the copy of origins of magic- which she refused to get out of her care- were piled up again. Since he was a good deal taller than she- and she had never been a small woman- he could easily watch his way and wasn't in danger to trip over somebody or something.

"My quarter's are in the east tower, first floor." Without waiting for his reply, she fell into a fast pace. Soon she heard his heavy footsteps following, but the sound dulled away as she picked up the train of thought the little incident had broken. Her current experiment consumed most of her free time, when she wasn't working on new battle spells or teaching magic to the gifted pages and squires. And although she had spent hours in the library, consulting ancient spell books it still did not work as she planned it. Which was rather frustrating. How could she ever hope to equal a black robed mage if she wasn't able to solve this little puzzle? There had to be a way to focus and store the arcane energy without draining the sorcerer in the process. But why was she unable to handle it? The last time she tried to create an artefact to store the natural flow of arcane energy present in the natural surrounding and bind it to a polished crystal, the whole experiment had gone totally wrong. In fact the magical explosion had shaken the whole eastern wing of the castle and blown up half of her study chamber. To say the king had not been pleased was a huge understatement. He had been quite determined to make her swear by Mithros that she'd used the strongest protection spells whenever she intended to play with powerful forces again. Wren had known that he had been right. It was her fault not to take appropriate precautions.

She'd never been too proud of herself to make the same mistake twice. The next time her calculations went wrong, nobody had detected any signs. The carefully woven protection spells had been sufficient; the only side effect had been her clothes, which had turned into a pile of ashes as a result of the roaming energy. Who was she to morn over a set of black linen clothes? Her wardrobe had more than a pair of spares. At least she was now sure, that the protection spells had hold.

Hopefully, Duanor Ravishnar had an answer which might help to solve her little problem. If that meant to spent her nights flapping through ancient scrolls and old books- than be it! She refused to give up. Gritting her teeth she promised herself again, she would succeed at all costs!

The sound of a deep voice interrupted her.

She stopped, turning around to face him with an angry glare. "I am grateful for your help but please "she stressed the word "refrain from speaking. It may not occur to you but I am more than busy with my own matters and can't afford some chitchat simply for matters of entertainment. If you be silent from now on- I'd be happy for the chance to concentrate on my work."

Again he seemed to be highly amused by her actions as he indicated a little bow in her directions and replied:" I live to serve, my lady!"

She just rolled her eyes, muttering to herself, that she was nothing near being a lady, and was just about to continue walking, when the door to the great hall was opened and Jonathan of Conté, the king himself, entered the corridor.

"Good morning, your majesty" she curtsied, while her mind quickly scanned for any incidents of the past days which might arouse his anger again. Luckily, she hadn't blown up anything, so she decided she could afford a little small talk.

"Good morning, Havrenne. Isn't it a bit early to take up your studies?"

"I wanted to take a quick look at some of these old tomes before my first class starts."

It was only then when the king seemed to notice who carried the heavy load of her reading. The puzzled look on his handsome face changed quickly into a broad smile. "If I had known your position as prime minister doesn't occupy yourself, Gary, I'm sure I would have found some other task to complete, so you wouldn't have to do a page's errant.

Wren winced inwardly at this revelation. Of course had she seen him before. Gareth of Naxen the king's prime minister. If possible she would have banged her head against the nearest wall, as punishment for stupidity. Curse her bad habit of not memorizing the faces of people who weren't involved in her work.

"You know, Jon, I could never resist a charming lady." Wren felt her blood boil with fury. Suddenly she developed a sudden urge to choke him. She struggled hard to restrain her boiling anger but it was futile- as usual her eyes betrayed her emotions too easily. Hastily she lowered her gaze- she didn´t want any of the men to notice her state of mind. Being the object of their amusement was embarrassing enough. Despite having a sharp tongue on her own, Wren had never liked to be made fun of. It reminded her too much of her student days at the university of Carthak.

When she decided to study higher magic and complex spells her teachers and fellow students had laughed at her. Even the few female students had said it was unfit for a woman to aim for a high rank in any category that didn't equal the natural role of a woman. Domestic spells, protection charms and healing spells- those were the subjects considered to be appropriate for a woman.

Only a small minority among the robed sorcerers were female and none of them occupied a rank above yellow. Wren always doubted this was simply the result of women being less gifted than their male companions. Most of the gifted women who attended the university were either noble born or daughters of wealthy families who were eccentrics or simply held the hope of raising the marital status of a daughter educated in healing and domestic magic.

No sane parent would encourage his daughter to apply for a position as warrior mage, due to the common belief, that, no matter how skilled a sorceress was, she would never equal a male sorcerer of the same level. As far as attack spells and higher magic were concerned, it was a common knowledge that a woman was inferior due to her lack of physical strength and willpower, which hindered her to gain control over the most powerful spells.

Because she wasn't allowed to attend the classes for warrior mages she resumed to sneak into the library at night and secretly studied advanced and difficult spells on her own. Sometimes Arram would join her, and although she couldn't admit it back then she was glad for every bit of help.

Still she longed for the chance to one day gain the rank of a black robe; since Emperor Kaddar had taken over the throne the prospect of returning to Carthak one day to finish her studies was no longer bleak.

This would change if she gave in to her fury and strangled the prime minister in front of the king. Surely this wouldn't help him forget about her little accident with the explosive potion.

_Mithros, Mynoss and Shakith_, she swore,_ what have I done to deserve this?_

Holding on to the torn and thin strand of her self control she managed to fake a smile and addressed the king.

"I'm really sorry to interrupt your lovely conversation, but I have to hurry if I don't want to be late for my class." Adding another apologetically smile which didn´t reach her eyes and managed only half to cover the acid tone in her voice, she turned on her heels and walked away.

* * *

"You could have told me ", she said accusingly, when he caught up with her.

"I tried" he replied with a smile "As I recall you were the one who was too busy for chitchat."

"Touché", she said dryly. "You got me on that one." She let out a deep sigh, mentally preparing herself for what she was about to say. "I'm busy with a serious arcane experiment and its progress is rather... slow. That's why I'm not in exactly high spirits, but anyway thanks for your help." That was the closest to an apology she could manage. She eyed him out of the corner of her eyes waiting for a reaction, but he just shrugged.

"It's no bother. Besides, Jon was right, you should let a page help you with this stuff. How did you plan to carry them through the entire castle?"

Wren glared at him.

"I'm not one of those court ladies who whine whenever they break a nail- and if I really couldn't manage to carry them I could have easily bewitched the books to reduce their weight."

"True. How could I forget, since you were the one responsible for the cracks in the walls of the west tower." She heard him chuckle and felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment. Curse to her pale skin, she must resemble an overripe tomato by now. "Do you know how much the renovation had cost?"

"You like to rub people's mistakes in their noses, don't you?" She retorted sharply.

"As far as they are responsible for the diminution of the royal treasury, I do."

"Look, I said I was sorry. You don't think I blew the whole lab up on purpose, do you? It's not that I like to be reprimanded by everyone who's heard a slightest bit about magic. Mistakes happen, and that one was a random error. How was I supposed to know the crystal would explode? I'm taking intensified security precautions and since no one was hurt- except my pride- I'd be glad if you just cut it out!"

He commented her outburst with a simple raising of eyebrows.

"You do have a quick temper. Reminds me of someone I know."

She glared at him, still fighting to control her boiling anger. "It's your fault for teasing me. Besides we're almost there. My study is behind that door. You really don't need to carry the books any further; I can manage on my own." She motioned to take them from him but he evaded her grasp with a shake of head.

"That would be very discourteous to not finish what I started, wouldn't it? Please, lead the way." Oh, how she longed to punch this stupid grin off his face! Wren was sure he liked teasing her and to her infinite displeasure there was nothing she could to. So she faked a smile and said in her sweetest tone:" You are too kind, sir! I hope my modest little home will be to your liking." She ignored his chuckling and opened the door, which swung open without a sound. When she had moved into the east wing two weeks ago she had seen to the angles being oiled. She hated grating doors; the incessant sounds haunted her short hours of sleep, and made her even crankier.

* * *

The anteroom which functioned as Havrennes study was overcrowded with books and scrolls. Everywhere on the floor old tomes were piled up neatly, scrolls rested on the numerous bookshelves and several maps and hand drawn sketches were pinned to the few spaces of the wall, which weren't already occupied with shelves or crystalline lamps. Havrenne hurried to the desk, which too was crowded with a currently empty book holder, messed up papers, pens and a snow globe with a tiny figurine of a dancer dressed in white. With a swing of her right hand she pushed the papers away to make room for the books.

"Just put them down…" Before she was able to continue an ear piercing howl emanated from behind the other door in the little room.

"It's my dog!" She answered his questioning gaze.

"Fluffy, be silent!" She ordered but to her great dismay Fluffy decided that he was old enough to develop a serious case of deafness and continued whiffing and barking. Gary had put the pile of books on the desk and watched her with amusement as she tried to calm the excited dog- to no avail. In the end she stormed over and opened the door. Instantly a huge white shadow rushed out jumping up and down like an oversized fur ball, all along yelping with obvious joy. The two most striking things about Fluffy: he was the tallest and ugliest dog he had ever seen in his whole life. Even while on all fours Fluffy was tall enough to rest his massive head on the desk. He was an albino mongrel with huge watery red eyes, pink muzzle, plate-sized paws and long yellow white fur. The dog wagged his tail in joy and had just finished greeting his mistress and decided that it was the right time to have a close look at the unknown stranger.

He heard Havrenne mutter:" Fluffy, don't…" But it was too late, the dog had already jumped him and for the second time he hit the floor as 160 pounds of joyful dog crashed into him. Fluffy had obviously decided that he was a potential friend and chose to express his amiable feelings by leaving pools of drool on his face and tunic. Great!

He tried to push the dog away, but Fluffy continued to lick his face affectionately. After what seemed like hours Havrenne finally managed to pull the dog away and lock him up in the bedroom. Gary was still busy cleaning himself from dog saliva when she re-entered the room. After a quick glance at his soiled clothes she blushed.

"I'm sorry; normally he's a really nice obedient dog. I don't know why but he seems to like you." Apparently uncomfortable with the situation she fumbled with her silver hairpin. "Wait a minute; I got a spell to clean that of." She waved her hand in a fluent motion and uttered a word in the old language. Instantly the foul smell of dog saliva vanished and his tunic felt clean and dried up as if it had just come from the laundry.

Before he could thank her, she waved her pale hand at him and cut him off.

"It's ok. You carried my books; I cleaned up your clothes - guess that makes us equal. Besides, it's getting late and I don't want to be late for my own class. It was a pleasure meeting you, have a nice day!" With that she shoved him out of her quarters, and before he even comprehended what was going on she closed the heavy door in his face. Puzzled he stared at the dark wood as if that would help to solve the mystery called Havrenne.

Gary shook his head but even though he had business of his own to attend to – by now the reports were sure to pile up on his desk- he couldn't get the unusual woman out of his head. Truth to be told, when he ran into her his first impulse had been to reprimand her but when he had seen her face- pale eyes beaming with scorn- her resemblance to an angry little squirrel had served to banish any resentful feelings. The fact that she didn't recognize him had greatly amused him. He had always been quite popular with the ladies at court and as time went by had gotten used to the fact that many noble mothers held the notion that he would make the perfect husband for their daughters.

Havrenne, however, didn't seem to be the kind of woman who was on the catch for a husband. Not that he felt attracted to her in that way. He mentally shrugged. It wasn't that she was an eyesore, maybe if dressed up properly she might have been called pretty, but either she didn't care much for her appearance or she dressed on account in a way which made her look like her own great grant aunt. If Jon hadn't called her by her name, Gary would never have believed her to be the infamous mage, who already held the record of being rather unsocial and having a talent for pissing off the king. Her choice of dressing was befitting for an elderly librarian and the black clothes emphasized the unhealthy paleness of her skin- a typical feature of scholars and mages who spent too much time in dark rooms over ancient scrolls- and the dark circles under her pale grey-blue eyes didn't change that impression for the better. Even if her pale lips weren't frowning- an expression which she seemed to held rather often- her dark brown hair, tied up in an accurate knot high up on the back of her head, reminded him of the hairstyle his former nanny (a strict humourless spinster) had preferred. Gary doubted that any woman below the age of fifty could look good with that attire! And if she sported a quick temper and a sharp tongue, well, he was sure after this little encounter he might point out who stood model for the saying that hell had no fury like a woman's scorn. Pity the man who was unlucky and cursed enough to become the object of her hatred!

And yet, he couldn't ignore the fact that somehow this little minx was an interesting person- furious temper and impudent attitude included.

* * *

**Author´s note:**

_Not so many surprises in this initial chappy ... I promise this fic actually does have a plot ( although it´s just a pretense for all the romantic stuff I just can´t avoid to write...). Be patient, please, read and review and you´ll see! ( catchy advertisement isn´t it??)._

_I know that Gary is supposed to be married to Cythera. Since he was never one of my favourite characters ( I´m a huge George- fan...no wonder I like Rosto , too), this info simply slipped past my notice when I read Protector of the small. When the idea for this fic popped up in my mind I did some research for the timeline and I was totally surprised to discover that he´s already taken-ooooops! Whatever, he´s single in this one so it´s oviously an AU._

_I´m no native speaker and therefore I appreciate any constructive criticism concerning style and grammar ( should someone feel the urge to volunteer as beta reader- feel free to contact me;) )._

_I hope you enjoyed reading ... to be continued..._


	2. Chapter 2: Déjà vu

_Disclaimer : see chap.1 bla bla ;)_

**Chapter 2: Déjà vu**

"The Hag's coming!" Wren stiffened at the boy's remark. She didn't care about being popular with her students; her task was to teach them how to develop the skills of their gift – that didn't include being their admired idol. It wasn't the first time she encountered the nickname she was called in her absence, but she decided it was about time she taught them a lesson and reminded them of how mean the hag could be. A nasty little smile plastered along her features as she entered the classroom. All of a sudden the boys hurried to their places and she heard a whispered remark:" She's smiling- that's gotta be bad!"

_You've got no idea, you little pest!_ Still smiling she slammed her books down on the desk with a loud bang that woke even the few in the last row who had dozed off.

"Now that I have your attention- take out a sheet of paper and a pen I want to test your knowledge on the content of the last class on magical theory. Since I'm sure all of you paid attention you'll find it not too difficult to memorize the essentials." A unison groan of frustration filled the air as all the boys hurried to fulfil her orders. Wren proceeded to announce the questions and soon the small room was filled with the scratching of pens on paper. Heads were bent over desks and only time and again would a boy stare blank into space in search for the right answer. As she let her gaze travel from one to next she suddenly spotted a boy who wasn't writing anything- pen and paper still lay untouched in front of him. A frown appeared on her forehead as she approached him.

"Don't you think it's about time you started filling out your test, Caspar, or do you need a special invitation, perhaps?"

The blonde faced her gaze stubbornly.

"This is ridiculous. I want to learn advanced magic."

Caspar of Kendrach- the boy had been a nuisance ever since. He might have been a promising mage if it hadn't been for his lack of discipline and his overconfidence in his own abilities. More than once had she caught him trying to cast spells he wasn't ready for.

"The last time I checked, I was the teacher and you were the student- you'll learn what I decide suits your abilities."

"You can't talk to me that way- my father is…"

"I don't care if your father is the great Mithros himself" she smiled at him sweetly." You think your judgement is better than mine?

"Fine." She reached into her pocket and produced an apple, which was originally supposed to serve as her lunch. "Take this."

The boy obeyed her command and eyed the fruit suspiciously.

"Imagine this was your head…" The boy was still staring at her with a mixture of confusion and arrogance when the apple exploded and scattered fruit mush all over his face and clothes.

"Lucky one you are… that's what happens to people who overestimate themselves. And if I had allowed you to try magic you are not ready for, it would have been your brain reduced to a muddy pool." She looked him straight in the eye, but what she found in his gaze was unmasked hatred- nothing more. "Not that I'd care in particular, though." She added. "Go and change- I expect you to return before the end of this class, is that clear?"

"Perfectly," He hissed and sent her one last deadly glare before slamming the door shut behind him. Even though her way of reprimanding him had been a little drastic, she doubted it would suffice to change his conceited attitude. In that case she hoped that it was true that fortune favoured fools. Wren rubbed her temple absently; she couldn't waste time musing about things which were beyond her influence.

Caspar didn't return by the end of the class. It wasn't as if she really had expected him to reappear after she had humiliated him in front of his peers.

_I just hope he won't skip the next sessions, too. Otherwise I have to complain to Lord Wyldon_, she thought. The mere prospect of facing the training master made her flinch inwardly.

From their first unlucky meeting, she and Wyldon hadn't gotten along well, to put it in mild terms. She couldn't point a finger on it but for some reason they shared a bond of mutual disliking and she always tried to keep their social intercourse as brief as possible.

If the god's were merciful Caspar developed a brain and would ruefully apologize to her. And pigs might fly, she added mentally.

Sighing she picked up the pile of tests; if she corrected them in time she might enjoy a cup of mint tea before duty called and she had to turn her attention back on the old manuscripts.

Just as she was about to exit the classroom a messenger, clad in the livery of the palace staff, arrived.

"Mistress Tuskadi, I'm glad I've finally found you!" The young man's face was covered in sweat. Obviously he had been running.

_There goes my sweet teatime!_

"An emergency in Ardein. The third company will leave as soon as possible; the commander suggests you'll prepare yourself for battle."

"Tell him, I'll be ready in less than twenty minutes. Do you have any further information regarding the exact case of emergency?"

The messenger shook his head. "Some kind of unknown predatory immortal. The messenger from the town died soon after his arrival."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"After you complete your task- can you deliver a message to Ursa the cook? Tell her I would be happy if she takes care of my dog, while I'm away."

"Of course."

As soon as the messenger was gone she hurried to her quarters.

_Just what I needed- unknown vicious immortals terrorising folks in a town three days journey away. Thrilling, what could be more fun than battling an unknown enemy?_

_Whatever, if nothing else suffices, I'll have it decapitated; nothing stays moving without its head. At least that's how it used to be._

* * *

Wren used to keep her travelling gear in a wooden chest, neatly packed so in case she had to depart unannounced, she wouldn't waste any time. After changing into breeches and sturdy leather boots- far more comfortable for travelling than her usual skirts- she grabbed her saddlebags and was about to leave for the stables when a small wooden box on her desk caught her eye.

_Who knows? These might come in handy_, she thought and put the box into one of the smaller bags, checking twice to make sure it was tucked in neatly. _I'd wanted to run a field test anyway._

When she reached the stables she found that her horse Plum was already saddled and looked at her with an unmoved gaze as if she wanted to say, there's no reason in complaining, I have to go anyways. She patted the ochre coloured mare before she continued to arrange her luggage and the saddlebags.

Wren scooped up Plum's reins, heading for the exit while the mare obediently followed.

A stable boy with a tousled mane of unruly dark red hair was busy cleaning out the stables, humming softly to himself.

"Hey, Jared!" Wren called out and the youth's head shot up. "I just wanted to say thanks for taking care of Plum." She reached into her purse and flipped him two coppers which he caught easily in midair. A huge grin spread over his freckle covered face. "Thank you miss. Good luck!"

* * *

When she arrived at the courtyard, the first brigade was almost ready for departure; only occasionally would one man check his horse's attire a final time or rearrange a strap on his pack. Wren didn't bother to search for familiar faces- she wasn't long enough at court to have made any friends amongst the Own. Maybe there was one or two she had briefly encountered during the Immortals war, when she had served as war mage at Port Legann but she didn't feel in the mood to be social.

Plum nibbled on her rein and she patted the horses flank lightly. Unlike her mare she wasn't too eager to go on an extended horse trip. Although her riding skills were somehow average she wasn't used to travel hours on horse back and clearly didn't look forward to aching muscles and cramping legs. Luckily she did pack a special ointment but she prayed to the goddess she wouldn't have to use it.

Suddenly the rummaging and talk ceased as Sir Raoul of Goldenlake, the commander of the King's Own entered the Yard. Clad in shiny combat armour the huge knight was an impressive sight. Wren had seen him in battle- moving with a graceful swiftness she didn't expect from such a heavily built man- and she had instantly felt a bit of sympathy for his opponents; she was glad that she would never have to face him with a sword.

"A messenger from Ardein reported a severe attack of an unidentified kind of immortal, three days ago. The creature annihilated the 20th riders group, which had been called for help.

Apart from its aggressive behaviour the limits of the immortals abilities are yet unknown. Be prepared for fierce battle; we don't know what exactly we will be facing. Further instructions will be given upon arrival."

Wren had listened to the commander's deep voice with a growing uneasiness. She couldn't put a finger on it but she had the strange feeling this would turn out badly.

_I should really stop pondering over silly emotions_, she scolded herself mentally. _There's no use in panicking, just because I have no clue what this thing is._

The sound of a horn cut through the air, the signal for the departure and Plum fell into a fast pace.

* * *

Upon the second night at camp, Wren's mood had reached a new point of depression. Her whole body ached in places she didn't even know she had and she could swear everything below her waist had died a silent death hours ago. She was sore and limped like an old woman; even the ointment she had packed couldn't ease the ache completely. At that moment she was quite willing to trade her very soul for a good massage and a hot steam bath.

A regretful sigh escaped her lips, as she thought of how long it would take until she could enjoy both. And there was still work to do before she could finally fall asleep in her uncomfortable damp bedroll. She frowned as she approached the commander's tent.

Raoul looked up from a map he had been studying and faced her with a hopeful expression.

"Did you see something?"

She shook her head wearily. "I'm sorry, but I couldn't see anything. No matter how often I tried, something within the area of the town interferes with my magic. It's like a … hole in the natural flow of magic. Too fuzzy to determine anything. I can't even locate any life signs within the centre."

She had spent hours trying to scry- without success. Her gift had slowly shrunk and although she used all her concentration she had seen- nothing. No life signs within the town, not the familiar bell like tingle which indicated the presence of an immortal- nothing. Only a large gap of absolutely nothingness like a black abyss, waiting to devour any bypassers. Maybe they were already too late. Maybe all they would find in the morning was nothing more than smouldering ruins. The mere thought let her fist clench in helpless anger. Of what use was her gift if she wasn't able to overcome an obstacle as small as this?

Raoul seemed to notice her state of mind. "I'm grateful for your effort. We'll see soon enough what is hidden now. You sure need to catch some sleep as long as you can. Since I don't know what awaits in Ardein I recommend you preserve your strength, I have a strong feeling your magic will be needed later on."

"As you wish. I'll take my leave. Good night!"

She heard him mumble a reply while his head was already bent over his papers again.

Back in her tent, her bedroll felt as uncomfortable as she remembered. Now matter how hard she tried sleep wouldn't come to her. Her mind was spinning, her body ached and although her sore bones yearned for sleep her thoughts kept bothering her.

Trying to focus on anything other than the upcoming fight her mind travelled back to the incidents of the past two weeks.

Her experiment had progressed rather well in terms of not blowing up her study. Apart from that- zero. With the theses displayed in Ravishnar´s theories she had succeeded in binding a spell to an object. The structure of the required spells were similar to those needed in the creation of light crystals; the slight but very important difference was the fact that her goal was not to create a glowing crystal but something more akin to a generator of magical energy. Perhaps she should accept Numair´s offer for help in that matter. If she was honest, the only obstacle was her pride. For years she had had to rely on herself – it was hard to abandon the notion that she always had to prove her worth as a competent mage.

A small stone poked her through the sheets of her bedroll. Uncomfortable she shifted until she felt more comfy.

Outside of her tent the wind whistled his serenade in the branches of the trees, accompanied by the soft whisper of the campfire. Occasionally a pair of dice clattered on the dry ground and somewhere deep in the woods a lonesome night bird cried its sorrow to the world. Eventually she would fall asleep only to be haunted by strange dreams.

* * *

Three hours after dawn they exited the forest, where beyond a small hillside and ripe fields of wheat the outer ring walls of Ardein glistened in the morning sun. As they approached the town, the illusion of peace faded away. The wings of the massive gate had been crushed to broken pieces, leaving only bits of planks hanging in the aisles. There were gaps in the walls, were stones had been broken out of it by brute force. Whatever had caused this must have been a giant creature.

Every sense alert Wren scanned the surroundings for a hint of the attacker.

The scouts had reported a trail of destruction throughout the whole town, but no signs of any survivors. As they slowly made their way along the main street a horrific scenario unfolded. What once had been a prosperous town had been crushed to a pile of stones and wood, leaving only remnants of houses.

Occasionally bloody stains and bloody imprints on walls and the cracked pavement where the only indications as to what fate the inhabitants had suffered. Wren shuddered involuntary at the thought of which being was able to eradicate an entire town that easily.

Raoul halted his horse to face Wren.

"Can you locate the enemy? The scouts didn't find any traces, but it's better to be on the safe side."

"I'll try", she replied with more confidence than she actually felt. After checking that her saddle provided enough security she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, summoning the pool of magic which dwelled within her. Soon she felt her muscles relax and the familiar feeling of light headedness took over as her consciousness left her physical body to explore the web of magic which covered the physical world like a veil. Instead of the usual multicoloured mirror image she found herself in a space surrounded by a thick mass of grey fog.

_Whatever that's supposed to mean, I'm sure it can't be good!_

She reached for her gift and sent a small thread of amber fire to test the nature of the fog. The moment it touched the grey mass it simply vanished.

_Uh-oh… that's not very promising. I better return before things get ugly._

Her skin tingled with anticipation as she opened her eyes to the real world once again.

"Whatever caused this is still here- and it's definitely this creature, which blocks my gift. I couldn't locate it, but no doubt we'll find it sooner or later."

Raoul's face darkened. "I'd rather that than it finding us first." He turned around to face his men. "We will proceed further along the main street. The immortal must be still within the town. Stay close together and watch your surrounding. Be prepared for anything, we might be ambushed, so ready your weapons and report immediately if you see any movement!"

As the moments passed the tension grew. The horses rolled their eyes and became more nervous due to the metallic smell of drying blood. The further they moved towards the centre, where the market place had been, the greater was the trail of destruction. The bloodstains were more frequently now and seemed to form a morbid track leading towards a square stone building which was mostly intact except for a huge hole in the roof. The staircase in the front was covered with smeared blood and black flies. Wren guessed that it had been the local temple. A refuge in times of danger, a place where those who couldn't wield any weapon sought shelter in times of need.

"I have a strong feeling I know where we'll find the townsfolk", she heard a soldier mutter huskily.

Once they reached the temple front, the commander gave the signal to dismount.

"Captain Osmond, you and your squad secure the area, the rest will search the temple grounds."

The temple doors had been taken off their hinges by force, the massive iron dented and covered with many scratches. Wren felt a lump in her throat as she followed the soldiers into the shadows of the temple. Automatically her right hand reached for her atame. The solid feeling of the gemstone covered hilt served to calm her nerves. Although the dagger was quite short- not even the length of her forearm- the mystic blade served to reassure herself, that she could handle any situation.

They crossed the anteroom without any disruptions. The interior, candles and wooden banks which had served as seats for waiting visitors or just for reclining, lay scattered everywhere. Obviously the people who had assumed themselves safe within the temple walls had fought desperately to defend their lives.

"Sir, I've found them", called a soldier who had proceeded to the main hall. They rushed towards the doorframe and Wren couldn't suppress a shocked gasp as her eyes took in the sight which unfolded before her.

The main room, once the sacred centre of the temple, a place of peace and prayer had been turned into a giant tomb- no, she corrected herself hastily, not a tomb, a slaughterhouse. Corpses lay scattered all across the room, their bodies torn and mutilated. Disembodied limps lay in pools of dried black blood and the stench of rotting flesh nearly turned her stomach. Yet the most horrible sight where the obvious traces that the creature had gnawed on several corpses. It had turned the temple into its own personal pantry.

Disgusted Wren averted her eyes while she tried to control her feelings; there was no use in acting like a delicate lady, now was not the time for mourning and pity. Just as she scanned the room for any sign of the immortal her eyes fell upon the mutilated corpse of a woman who lay sprawled against a stone pillar, bones crushed like a straw puppet. Beneath her bloodstained skirts, almost hidden from her view, the tiny hand of a child was visible.

Her mind reeled, as memories of a similar scene surfaced before her eyes.

_Serene smiles plastered along the angelic faces of the two girls; although they were still chubby children both showed the promise of the beautiful women they would never grow up to be._

_Tears streamed down the pale face of the woman as she approached the sleeping children and oh so gently with trembling hands pressed a pillow over their small faces. A sleeping potion mixed onto their tea had served to put them into a deep slumber. None of them woke as they slowly suffocated._

_A last time she bent over to place a soft kiss onto their lifeless faces. "I'm sorry" she__ whispered brokenly. In a distance strong fists beat against the secured door and angry voices demanded entrance. The woman didn't care. Just as the door was forced open and the men approached her, her trembling hands reached for the dagger._

_It hurt, as it cut into the soft flesh of her throat. Hot blood cascaded in a fountain, staining her exquisite gown and forming a pool on the floor. She embraced the pain, knowing it was her well deserved punishment. At least her children hadn't felt any pain._

Wren stumbled against the wall, releasing the breath she hadn't noticed she had been holding back.

"Are you all right?"

She stared at the soldier who looked at her worriedly.

"I'm fine", she hissed, angry for allowing herself to be weakened by old memories.

Before she could add another insult, a horn call disrupted the scenery. Even Wren recognized the signal for an attack.

"They've found it" she whispered and ran towards the exit.

* * *

The unmistakable sounds of a fierce battle caught her attention just before she stepped out of the temple.

Outside the search squad was engaged in a hopeless battle against a huge creature, unlike anything Wren had ever seen before. It was about seven metres long from the grey shark-teethed muzzle to the spike-covered tail. Four-legged with bloody razor-sharp claws on each paw and a predators head with glowing deep red eyes it resembled the gargoyle statues carved from stone and marble covering some roof s in Corus wealthier districts.

Spreading grey batlike wings the creature let out an ear piercing scream as the archers covered it with a bunch of arrows-instantly the air around the foe flickered and then it was gone. The soldiers froze, puzzlement showing on their sweat covered faces, their eyes flickering from one point to the other, hastily scanning the surrounding for the vanished enemy.

"Where has it gone?" Osmond yelled, his voice suddenly turning into a gurgling scream as the fiend materialized right before him and bit him into pieces.

Wren didn't waste any time. Just as Raoul barked orders and the soldiers attacked the monster, she summoned globes of emerald fire, aiming for the creatures head. Satisfaction filled her as the fire hit its target. _Take this, you bastard!_

Yet, her magic didn't kill it, in fact it didn't even leave any marks.

The air above the creature flickered again, building up a greenish light, which swiftly enclosed the whole body of the immortal. Wren concentrated as her gift wrapped itself around the creature, ready to crush its body. The moment her spell reached its full power she realized her mistake- this particular spell formed a connection between the mage and the target, supported by a steady infusion of magic. A wave of pain erupted within her head as her gift was forcefully drained within the split of a second. She let go of the spell, and fell to the ground. Blood dripped from her nose to the ground, as she supported herself, using her hands to push herself back to her feet. Her head swam and she felt sick. Dizziness filled her mind and she felt her legs gave way. Before she actually hit the ground again she felt two strong arms supporting her.

"Havrenne, are you okay?" A familiar voice echoed in her ears. She felt being slightly shaken. Wren shook her head, and breathed in deeply, feeling the effect of the sudden loss of her gift weaken. It was Raoul who had caught her.

"I'm… I'm okay" she whispered, using her sleeve to wipe the blood off her nose. "The immortal used my spell against me, I'm almost drained."

He let out a very colourful curse. "We can't hurt it with normal weapons, you are stripped of your magic- I fear I don't see a way to defeat it."

"But the arrows did have an effect on it".

His lips twisted into a wry smile. "Only temporary – this damned thing heals faster than we can hurt it."

"So it isn't invulnerable…." Wren muttered. "I've got an idea. Wait a moment", she reached into her shoulder bag and produced a small wooden box.

"What's that?"

"I'll tell you later. Trust me when I tell you _if _this works you don't have to worry about big ugly anymore! Remember what happened to the east wing some weeks ago?" The slight twisting of his lips assured her he certainly had" If these little things work, that'll happen with five times more force. I need to come as close to it as possible. The only problem is that I can't concentrate on staying on horse back and hit my target at the same time. I have to team up with somebody who's riding skills are better than mine."

He nodded, approving of that risky plan. "Count me in on that. I have to make some arrangements- tell me, when you're ready."

"Anytime, sir." He nodded and took of to instruct his subordinates of the new battle strategy.

* * *

Raoul forced his horse to face the monster. Doubtless its stench and the smell of blood were enough to appeal to Drum's flight instinct but the gelding was an experienced war horse, trained to obey his master at all costs.

Peeking around Raoul's frame, Wren had to admit she would have preferred a tactical retreat to such a suicidal plan.

_That's me and my loose mouth!_ Never before had she faced an enemy immune to magic. Having to rely only on defence spells left her strangely bare and vulnerable, almost helpless. Feelings she didn't like at all. Damsel in distress had never been a role she saw herself fit for. Why rely on others, who were bound to fail you sooner or later, when you could learn to fend for yourself?

And then they were finally close enough, Wren gripped one of the flasks, waiting for the perfect moment to throw it.

_Come on ugly, open your pretty little mouth, I've got a very tasty dessert for you, come on!_ She prayed silently. Just as the creature opened its mouth she threw the flask right into it. The creature didn't even noticed swallowing it

"Get away from it as far as possible!" The knight heeded her call immediately and turned his horse around.

Wren clung to Raoul's broad back as if her life depended on it; they hadn't gotten too far as the deafening sound of the explosion thundered through the air. The horse slipped and fell sending her flying to the ground. Moments later oozy bits of flesh and blood rained from the sky.

Determining that she was bruised but nothing broken Wren stumbled to her feet grinning madly at the mushy bits of monster which where plastered all over the place.

_I'd like to see you healing this, sucker!_

Even the fact that she was completely covered with the remnants of entrails and blood couldn't banish her victorious feelings. Wiping a wet strand of hair out of her face she turned around to see what had become of the others. The explosion had scattered bits of the monster all over the whole place covering everything and everyone with foul reeking blood and tissue. She doubted she would get the smell off of her for the next few days. Peachy!

Before she could react she was being pulled into a bear hug and crushed against soiled chain mail.

"Uh, can't breathe!"

"Sorry" laughing Raoul let go of her. „These bombs are amazing! Do you have any more of them?"

„Actually, yes, I do have some spares. This turned out better than I thought. I might have to do a little adjustment concerning the explosive power but all in all I'm quite content about the result."

"What kind of immortal was it exactly? I don't think I've ever heard of a monster like that."

Wren frowned and shrugged her shoulders.

"I don't know either…" she felt her brows narrow in annoyance because of this lack of knowledge. " But I can tell you, why it was so easily able to wipe out this town. This immortal was not only immune to direct influence of magic; it had the power to absorb magical energy. I'm lucky to posses a great deal of the gift, otherwise we wouldn't have this conversation now."

Raoul's gaze shifted over the scenario of destruction. His expression turned from tension into worry as he watched soldiers carry the injured off to the healer who was already busy cleaning wounds and working healing spells. The havoc the creature had wreaked was immense. "Do you think there are others of this kind?"

"I hope not." Wren had followed his gaze and understood the reason for his concern too well. The gods knew what a whole pack of these monsters would do. "I wouldn't bet my life on it though. Deducing from what happened here I think it was a solitary being; otherwise there would have been more attacks similar to this. Should there be others- in that case I've got some more of my little friends." She patted her bag which contained the explosives.

His lips turned into a relieved smile.

"That's quite comforting. You did a good job today. Anyway, after the wounded are seen to we have to bury the dead."

"I can help with that", Wren interjected. "I stored some of my gift within opals as emergency supply. At least your men won't have to dig a whole graveyard when I can do it much faster.

I'd be happy to leave this place as soon as possible. Right now I ´d gladly commit genocide to get a hot bath and wash this mess of." She pointed to her soiled clothes.

"I fear that has to wait until we're back at Corus. But I recall there was a nice little river we crossed few hours ago."

Wren sighed in frustration. "You do know how to make a girl happy, you know that? I better start with the digging spell, the sooner this is finished the better."

* * *

**_Author´s note:_**_ I´m sorry this chappie took so long... it was a real pain in the ass to write. Can´t exactly explain why but I had serious trouble, my muse was very lazy and real life kicked in. Actually I´m not very happy about how it turned out all together ( not exactly like I planned it, my writing sucks- especially the dialogue section was very very hard to write. That´s why they´re mostly crappy ;) I appreciate any suggestions on how to improve it so please feel free to contact me.). I pray I didn´t make Raoul too much OOC, it´s not that he does much in this chapter, for obvious reasons lol ( plus I don´t have the slightest knowledge of this military stuff, ranks and all that.. I mean,__ does anyone know how much people form a squad? anybody??)_

_Thanks to Shandra23 for dialogue-support and ass-kicking!_

_No Gary in this chapter, but I´ll promise he will appear in the next ( and because I know I can´t restrain myself it will contain a potential fluff scene... as long as it doesn´t develop a life on its own like this and turns out completely different ;) )._

**Aly-Of-Tortall13, Fairy Lights, Bookflower: **_Thanks for reviewing! I hope you like this one,too._

_And to all who faved this story: guys, you rock! I´m glad to know you like this story_

_..TBC... yeah, that´s a threat, I know!_


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